


baby, come home

by minyoungis



Series: GOT7 [1]
Category: GOT7, K-pop
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleep, idolverse, taking care, tiredness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyoungis/pseuds/minyoungis
Summary: You’re both exhausted, but at least you can be exhausted together.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Reader
Series: GOT7 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981504
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	baby, come home

**Author's Note:**

> she’s in a long black coat tonight, waiting for me in the downpour outside / she’s singing baby come home in a melody of tears while the rhythm of the rain keeps time - Jetpack Blues, Fall Out Boy

You wait outside the JYP building on the other side of the street, engine shut, soft lo-fi playing in the car. It’s nearing midnight and the road is almost empty, only scattered with late night stragglers, their coats bunched high in a futile bid to protect themselves from the drizzle, illuminated under the spaced streetlights.

And also, apparently, a slightly stupid person who hasn’t seen her boyfriend properly in a week and just wants him to finish his practice soon so she can take him home and finally ensure that the both of them get some goddamn sleep.

You run the window down a crack, letting the car fill with the smell of wet mud. Turning up the heat, you pull your cardigan more snugly against your body and lean back in the seat, resolving to wait for a couple more minutes before entering the building and dragging him out yourself.

You can’t get your mind to shut down, constantly thinking about work and what needs to be done and deadlines and groceries and just how _tired_ you are and you’re hit with this wave of longing for comfort and warmth.

Waiting be damned, you roll up the window, pocket the keys and get out of the car, scuttling across the road, palm atop the frame of your glasses to prevent them from getting wet, and enter the building once the guard recognises you and lets you in.

You turn the corner to the corridor that houses their usual practice room and end up nearly crashing into a half-asleep Yugyeom. Both of your hands shoot out in front to steady each other and you notice that he’s got his mask and cap on, ready to leave.

“Are you guys done for the day?” you ask, as you watch him tiredly hoist his bag strap higher on his shoulder.

“Only Jaebum _hyung_ and I are here, the others left a while back. He doesn’t look like he’s going to be finished anytime soon, though,” he says, obviously displeased with the leader and his awful self preservation habits or lack thereof.

You dubiously give him a reassuring pat on his shoulder and say, “I’ll try my best,” answering his unasked question.

You reach the room and lean against the door frame, gaze fixed on your panting boyfriend. He’s hyper focused on his reflection, analysing his steps, ensuring that he doesn’t make any mistakes. The song pouring out of the speakers is new, unreleased and you can hear the fast beats that are guiding him through the movements.

He hasn’t seen your reflection in the mirror yet, engrossed as he is. You can practically _feel_ the frustration in the room from his harsh breathing and the muttered curse when he stumbles over a step and makes his way to the speakers to rewind and perfect the part.

You notice the clench of his jaw and the tightness in his back through his sweaty t-shirt and when he pulls his hair up to put it in a ponytail, you can finally see the exhaustion in his eyes.

Your feet move towards him of their own accord and his gaze snaps to you, fingers still struggling with his hair tie. Wordlessly, you reach up and pull it away, gesturing at him to bend so you can do it for him. He makes eye contact with you, trying to stare you down, stubborn because he knows what you’re here for and he knows that if he listens to you now, he’s as good as packing his bags to leave for the night.

You don’t back down though, even going so far as to take one of his hands in your own. You know his weaknesses and he’s a goner the moment you start to interlace your fingers with his, thumb now tracing an invisible pattern on his skin.

You don’t always play dirty, but these are desperate times.

He breaks his gaze with a huff after a half-hearted glare and drops to his knees heavily at your feet, head bowed, allowing you to gather his hair into the black rubber band that he may or may not have borrowed from you in the first place.

When you finish, you tap the top of his head, a silent signal that you’re done. Instead of getting up, he tips his head back, face towards you and your heart near damn _breaks_ when you see his half-lidded, tired eyes.

He looks fragile almost, in that one moment, shoulders drooped, face blank, eyes only filled with a tragic mixture of exhaustion and reluctant acceptance.

You bow at the waist, gently cupping his face and with a sigh of a kiss against his forehead, as tenderly as you can, you whisper, _“Baby, come home.”_

You help him get up, fingers back to their spot in between his. In a silent agreement, you both trudge to the shelf to get his bag after grabbing his phone from the speakers and walk out of the building, hand in hand.

The rain has slowed down to a barely-there drizzle by the time you pull into the driveway, music still softly playing and Jaebum struggling to stay awake in the seat next to yours.

You turn off the ignition and twist in your seat, collecting his bag from the back. He’s out of the car and leaning against the hood by the time you get out, hand outstretched, waiting for you to reach him, now apparently completely on board with the idea of sleep.

It’s quiet in the house as the two of you sluggishly go about your routines, you brushing and him showering, hands occasionally reaching out and giving soft pats and quick, tender caresses, just for some contact, some grounding, some _reassurance_ that sleep is just a few minutes away.

Shuffling into comfortable clothes, you slide under the covers together, finally feeling like everything’s back in its appropriate place and the promise of blissful nothingness tugging insistently at your eyelids.

The last thing you feel before you succumb to slumber is the gentle squeeze of your forearm that’s thrown across his frame and a low, murmured, _“Thank you, ‘night,”_ and all you can do is delicately but deliberately tighten your arms around him and place a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!  
> find me on tumblr (where everything is cross posted) at @min-youngis :D


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